| Top up, cause I don’t feel like talking much
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| Slept on so much they thought I was a mattress
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| White Allen Ivy, mutherfuck a practice
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| Rock so much ice, I’m a hat trick
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| Candy cranberry on the cutlass
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| Ties black magic
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| I beg your pardon in an Aston Martin
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| Candycorned to Neiman Marcus
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| Before I park it, I spark one
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| Nah
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| I just passed your pardon
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| Matter fact I just crashed my Aston Martin
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| So I don’t have to park it
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| You beefing on a Wednesday
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| I’m a vegetarian
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| Eating pork sliders on a Sunday
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| My Muslim homies roll the windows down
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| So they don’t have to smell the aroma
|
| Peep my persona
|
| I paid for the gas
|
| Shit, I paid for the Jag
|
| Autographed the paper tag
|
| You can have it back
|
| A Uber car, I’m a superstar
|
| I got cocaine on my door jam
|
| Cocaine on my door jam
|
| I just served eight grams in a traffic jam
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| I’m the chosen one
|
| I roll a blunt and push 4 ounce of smoke into my lungs
|
| 'Sace lungs, I’ll point it out
|
| Smoke pouring out my mouth
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| I’m a fire dragon
|
| Robbing, jeans sagging
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| I’m Bin Laden
|
| I been had 'em
|
| I been did that
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| I drive two cars, and both Cadillacs
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| My feet on the roof |